


The Nightmare's End

by eurydice72



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Magic Reveal, Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-17
Updated: 2014-01-17
Packaged: 2018-01-09 01:56:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1140081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eurydice72/pseuds/eurydice72
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin decides to follow his heart and do what he can for Morgana.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Nightmare's End

**Author's Note:**

> Starts during the S2x03 episode, "The Nightmare Begins" and goes AU from there. 
> 
> Written for mihnn for the holiday exchange at Camelot_Drabbles.

The shadows had slipped from their hiding places by the time Gwen left Morgana alone for the night, creeping across the stone floor to shroud the citadel from scrutiny. With the memories of the fire so fresh, and Uther’s ire more so, the guards stood straighter, their gazes more alert than was the norm. On the one hand, Merlin found comfort that Morgana’s security was deemed so precious.

On the other, their diligence saddened him with the reminder that it was all for naught, that Morgana’s demons came from within and nobody understood how isolating that could be.

Nobody but him.

Though his heart lodged in his throat, the echoes of Gaius’s warnings attempting to frighten him into turning back, he edged his way down the corridor, his attention focused on any who might see or stop him. The charm he’d placed on the flowers he’d delivered earlier that day still held. Its soft hum called to him from behind her doors, letting him know all was well. If he concentrated, he could probably sense it from a safe distance, but he wasn’t prepared to force Morgana to suffer through the ignorance of unknowing guards, should she have another bad night. He wanted to be close enough to intervene, be there for her, even if she didn’t know how or why.

He hid in an alcove within view of her quarters, the heavy tapestry protecting him from easy discovery. The narrow space forced him to fold his long legs closer to his body, as well as brace against the cold wall at his back, but the vantage was ideal to see who might come or go, or smell smoke before it got out of control, or even hear if she cried out. With a sigh, he settled in, prepared to wait the whole night through if necessary.

It wasn’t.

His eyelids were growing heavy when he felt the charm on the flowers change from its low, soothing tones. 

Its agitation leapt across the distance, snapping him back to the here and now, away from the ether of hypnotic green eyes and sly smiles meant only for him. He peered around the edge of the tapestry, but the corridor was deserted, unaware of the rising tides behind its closed doors. Morgana’s remained shut. To the casual observer, peace continued to reign.

Merlin knew better. He felt the difference as his charm reacted to Morgana’s mood, heat seeping through the walls as something upset her. His muscles screamed in protest as he unfurled his body from the alcove, but the moment he sensed the vase begin to vibrate, he broke into a run.

He burst into the room at the same moment the glass shattered. He didn’t have time to react to the terror on Morgana’s face as she stared at it. His sole instinct was to sweep his hand toward the exploding flowers, murmur the spell, and unleash the magic that would contain them.

The room froze. Morgana’s ragged breathing punctuated the air as the glass and foliage quivered within the spell’s confines. Merlin stole a glance in her direction, but she was riveted by the display, not him, locked in her own nightmare rather than the safety he’d hoped to offer.

Slowly, he pulled his fingers into a fist. The shards reversed direction, melding themselves back together, as the tiny petals reaffixed themselves back to their tender stems. Heat billowed beneath his skin. It wasn’t a reaction to the magic. It was the magnitude of what he’d just done, displaying his power so blatantly in front of one with the power to condemn him for it.

As his gaze slid back to meet Morgana’s, the knowledge that this might be one of the most important choices of his short life refused to be ignored.

Morgana stared at him, lips parted in shock. “What did you do, Merlin?” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“The same thing you did, I imagine.” He lowered his hand, allowing the vase to return to its place. “Just in reverse.”

Shouts came from the corridor. Merlin whipped around, but Morgana was faster, her bare feet silent as she bolted across the floor. She’d managed to pull the door shut a fraction when the words sharpened, the thud of running feet grinding to a halt.

“Are you all right, my lady?”

The door blocked Sir Leon from view, but that meant Merlin was unseen as well. He tensed, preparing to run or hide as the case may dictate.

The grip Morgana had on the edge of the door tightened, while her other hand strayed to her bodice, offering a modicum of modesty. “I’m fine,” she said. Merlin marveled at how calm she sounded, how in control, when only seconds earlier she’d scarcely been able to speak. “The door must not have been latched properly. The wind blew it open.”

“But it sounded like...” His voice faded away as Morgana arched a supercilious brow. Merlin bit back his smile. Sir Leon cleared his throat. “My apologies, my lady. As long as you don’t need anything—”

“I don’t.”

She kept her chin high, her eyes on the corridor, until the footsteps faded away. Taking a deep breath, she closed the door and immediately sagged against it, resting her brow against the wood.

Merlin was there in a flash, but his hand stuttered on its instinctive path to her shoulder. “You should get back to bed,” he said instead, but it felt woefully inadequate.

Morgana didn’t move. “You have magic,” she whispered.

It was too late to deny. “Yes.”

“Arthur doesn’t—”

“No. Nobody knows.” Though he suspected she would never betray Gaius, he couldn’t bring himself to implicate his mentor just yet.

She lifted her head. Her eyes shone with unshed tears. “I do. Why?”

“Why did I tell you, you mean?” At her mute nod, he leaned his shoulder against the door, as close to her as he dared. “Because I didn’t want you to feel like you were alone.”

Her lower lip quivered before she sucked it between her teeth to steady it. The eyes that searched his seethed with desperation, the same emotions he’d heard in her words when she’d tried to talk to Gaius. “It is magic, isn’t it? What’s happening to me.”

He nodded. “It sounds like it.”

“Why? What’ve I done?”

“You haven’t done anything. Magic isn’t evil, Morgana. It’s no more evil than a sword or a sewing needle is. It’s just a tool for us to wield when the time is right for it.”

“Except I can use a sword.” Bitterness laced her tone. “I can’t control this.”

“Because it’s new,” he soothed. “You had to learn how to handle a sword. This is no different.”

She still looked doubtful, but no further argument came. They stood there in silence for a long minute before Morgana edged back into the room.

“Aren’t you scared?” she said. Her gaze darted to the closed door. “Uther would kill both of us if he knew.”

Somehow, Merlin couldn’t believe that Uther would turn on Morgana so viciously, should the truth come to light, but that didn’t mean her fears were baseless. “I used to be, yes. And I’m careful not to get caught, don’t doubt that. But I was more scared when I thought there wasn’t anyone for me to turn to, when I wondered why I could do things others couldn’t.”

“Where did you find answers?”

“A friend of the family. Someone who helped me realize what I have is a gift, not a curse.”

Her mouth twisted into a moue of distaste. “Uther would disagree with that.”

“Uther isn’t here right now.” He dared to approach again, step by cautious step, until the rapid pulse at the base of her throat was all too visible. He itched to touch her, to learn for himself if her skin was as soft as it appeared, but that required bravery he hadn’t yet mastered. “You will always be safe with me. If you believe nothing else, believe in that.”

Standing there, with only the scant light filtering in through the window, Morgana more closely resembled a pale wraith than the vibrant woman he knew by day. The color had leeched from her cheeks and lips, and her eyes had gone luminous, unblinking as they fixed on him. He wasn’t sure what she looked for. He wasn’t even sure he could give it to her when she knew. But he remained straight and motionless as she weighed his declaration, tamping down the fire inside that waged war for its release.

Finally, the tip of her tongue appeared to swipe over her dry lower lip. “You couldn’t even let the flowers you gave me get hurt,” she murmured. “How could I not trust that you’d mean the same for me?”

He couldn’t hold back his relieved smile. “Which must mean magic can be used for good, too, don’t you think? No matter what Uther says.”

Her lashes dipped. “You make it sound so easy. Everything I’ve ever been told—”

“Comes from one man’s fear,” he finished. His hand was cupping her face before he could stop it, tilting her head back so she was forced to look at him, see that he meant every word he was about to say. “I’ve seen your heart. You care about people. You feel for them. I refuse to accept that any of that could ever be considered evil.”

With the words uttered, he knew he should let her go. Touching her like this was hardly appropriate, but the longer they gazed upon the other, the more natural it felt. Nobody would ever understand Morgana like he did, and in that moment, he realized she knew that, too.

“I don’t know how to face it,” she confessed. 

“That’s what I’m here for. I’ll help you learn how to control it in whatever way I can.”

“But I don’t want this magic.”

“I think those that go in search of it are those most likely to ill serve it. And if that’s not proof of the sort of person you truly are, I don’t know what is.”

Her lips twitched as she fought back a smile. “Who knew you could be so wise, Merlin?”

“Well, Arthur sure doesn’t.”

When Morgana laughed at that, a veil of shadows lifted from her face. “You almost make me believe it’s possible to go on like nothing’s changed.”

“It is. Look at how long I’ve lived in Camelot without anyone discovering what I can do. And it’ll be easier for you.”

“How’s that?”

“Because you’re one of the strongest people I have ever known.” It was the truth. He hoped she saw that. Just in case... “And now you have me to help you.”

The lean into his touch was slight but there. “Will you stay tonight?” she asked softly. “My dreams—”

“I’ll stay for as long as you wish me to.” With his heart in his throat, he bent and brushed a kiss across her forehead. It was too fleeting to be construed as anything serious, but somehow, his lips continued to tingle longer after he straightened again. “No more nightmares. I promise.”

And when dawn broke, when her eyes turned to find him seated at her bedside, the memory of the moments when he’d had to coax her away from the nethers of her bad dreams via touch and tone loomed large between them. Each one was etched indelibly on their brains, unable to be forgotten, incapable of being dismissed.

He’d kept his word.

For her, for the hope he knew it gave her, for the newfound ally he’d gained and more, he always would.


End file.
